


Il adore les arbres en automne

by treesandtruce



Series: La chaleur de l'après-midi [4]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: A camera - Freeform, Autumn, Band of Brothers Week 2017, Fluff, Louisiana, M/M, Photography, Reading, Richard Winters and Lewis Nixon are the absolute loveliest, The Hobbit makes an appearance!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:29:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treesandtruce/pseuds/treesandtruce
Summary: Autumn had finally arrived in Louisiana. Babe bloomed like a water lily, now, that the temperature cooled down.This morning, the postman had brought a neatly wrapped package. Wrapped in newspaper of the New York Times and tied with parcel twine. Almost too nice to tear open.





	Il adore les arbres en automne

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for stopping by! I very much hope you will enjoy this little work. Everything is, of course, based on the TV series and in no way meant to be offensive.

It was later autumn, Halloween had passed and the third season stood in it's full splendour. The leaves rustled in a different way than they did in summer. The birds' whistling sounded various, yes, even the wind brought chillier air around the corner of the white coloured house. It was November, and that meant a very exciting time came for Babe. He was able to hop around the house more lightfooded, not dragging his sweat drenched body through the hall, down the stairs and onto the white chairs - to catch a little bit of the breeze - that were placed on the veranda, just to drag it back inside after what could not have been more than a few minutes, to cool down inside. No, autumn meant it friendly with him, frightening the humidity gone and calming down the heat to an acceptable 21°C. But afterall, that was only a bonus to the atmosphere and the feeling he carried deeply within him when the season came around.

-

The garland didn't hang across the cupboards anymore. 'Happy Halloween' didn't block his way to mugs and glasses, plates and other diverse pieces of _batterie de cuisine_. He had tried to keep the orange paper letters up for as long as possible, for it had been made his very own mission each year to withhold Eugene from taking them off. And each year, he got them to dangle a day longer.

This morning, the postman had brought a neatly wrapped package. Wrapped in newspaper of the New York Times and tied with parcel twine. Almost too nice to tear open. Maybe he should have let Eugene unravel it, he would untie the bow first.             Babe considered that, if it was not his full name that had been written on it. Eugene would have immediately recognized the handwriting, if he had gotten it between his - cold around this time of year - fingers. But he had been busy, so the package had waited all day long, right next to the telephone. A little company is necessary after all, isn't it? Right now, Babes curiousity took overhand and he opened it first. Not without making his way to the screendoor of course, in attempt to show it to Gene.

He snorted. "Edward Heffron."

With the second layer of news, a yellow piece of paper fell out and glide to the dark wooden floor. 'Babe, Bill Guarnere let us know about your newly found hobby. We hope this will help you out.' He read. The rest of the letter was left ignored. Quickly, Babe freed the sent item out of its paper prison. He held a camera in his hands. Signed: Richard Winters, Lewis Nixon

"Gene?" He asked, pushing the see-through door open, stepping through, lightly hitting his toe on the unevenness, and shutting it with his hip.

It didn't bother him, that Eugene hadn't answered. Layers later, Babe held a camera - and it was a heavy one. It was made of cold metal that shone modernly, but for the most part it was black. Something- russian, he assumed - was printed into a sleek piece of said metal. But how was he supposed to know. And how did his former Captain and Major get their hands on a russian camera? He turned the heavy thing around. A film was included. He rushed through the packaging paper and looked for instructions, that he could understand, only to find none. Something that obviously spoke for itself: try and find out.

For the next half hour, Babe inspected the chunk of modern technology extensively. The half hour after that, he tried out the influence of light and turned a few little wheels. He had close to no idea. By the end of hour number one, Babe had taken exactly two photos. One by accident and then, after he had found out where to rewind. He wasn't too stupid after all! These two photos brought his inner photographer out. He stood around for a long long time in the same spot, turned left about a centimeter, lifted his hands for another two, then layed his thumb onto the shutter release, about to press and- didn't push the button. Awaiting the perfect moment, as Babe had found out, took a lot of time. A remarkably long time. An awfully long time. But the few perfect-moment-photos that he took, were centered around Eugene.

Eugene had been sitting on the large white chairs, that we already know to rest on the veranda, reading. Babe was all too sure, that he hadn't been caught photographing. Gene was reading, and it was still the same book. It was a book he had brought from England, one he had refused to start before not everything was, more or less, settled in place, allowing him to properly _read._ It was about a new friendship and an old adventure that was rather unexpectedly expected. About ancient treasures deeply hidden beneath a lonely mountain and an invitation for tea. And about a very respectable Hobbit, that wasn't too respected after his return.

"You still reading that?" Babe flopped down next to him. "

''Then what is Durin's Day?' Asked Elrond.' Yeah." Eugene had read the sentence he read as an answer for Babe out loud but then decided, that an actual response could have done that in just one word. Unfortunately, the words were already out by then.

Babe pursed his lips, nodding. For a while he didn't say anything. "That Elrond guy's question's a good one." Said Babe.

Gene browsed back and opened his mouth. " 'The first day of the dwarves' New Year, [...] is as all should know the first day of the last moon of Autumn on the threshold of Winter.' " And again, Babe nodded.

He stared out to the yellow-leafed birches by the creek that swayed ever so slightly. "Wanna take a photograph of the trees?" He asked.

Eugene looked up from his book, then layed it upside down onto to table. "Yeah."

Babe jumped up from his seat, holding out the camera to the other one. With one of his soft french smiles - as Babe calls them - even though he had no idea about french and their smiles, Eugene reached for the camera, standing up in the same moment. He took it with his both hands from Babes, which were surprisingly warm although the cold. Gene, as if filled with magic found Babe, moved to the edge of the stairs that led down the veranda. He rose the camera to his face and stood for a while. Babe realised that perhaps he should have shown Eugene how it worked.                                                           Gene rewinded the camera twice.

Standing on the porch, Eugene was dipped in autumn light, drenched were his skin and deep hair. The breeze got caught in strands of it, playing it like the leaves. His grey, lose hanging shirt threw waves across its front and back. Babe shoved his hands into the pockets of his short trousers, sporting a very large smile.

"Edward?" Eugene had turned halfway 'round, squinting a little as the sun blinded him. He held the camera a little bit lower.

"Doc?" Babe had been caught admiring. It created a smile on Eugenes face.

"There more than one film?" Gene asked.

A shrug.

"Got a letter?"

"Yeah-" Babe shuffled through the newspaper while Gene approached the veranda.

Babe held out the letter. To not jeopardise the camera, Eugene set it down on the table, next to its former wrapping paper.

Eugene read the letter with his lips slightly parted, ready to read aloud. " '[...] included two more films, beside the one in the camera. [...] We would like to be sent a few of your masterpieces. Adress is known to you. If not, ask Roe; he has got it.' "

The last two sentences he read with a grin, quickly glancing up at Babe. Blushing crept up Babe's face. But he laughed back.   Eugene sat down on his chair, reading the rest.                                                                 Babe copied his motion, leaning back, his head turned to face him.

"We gotta write 'em back." Said Eugene, resting the accurately folded piece of paper on his thighs.

"I'll do that tomorrow." Babe answered, still looking at Gene's complexion.

"You forgot the guirlande too."

"What about that book?" Babe started a sad attempt at changing the subject.

But Eugene didn't look like he would go back to reading all too soon. With an open expression he watched Babe, who watched Eugene back.

"You think we should plant an acorn?"


End file.
